a gun around with me, and I don’t want one in the bakery. And it’s probably to Everett’s benefit that I won’t be packing heat once I confront him and his mistress later tonight.
Elodie hitches her dark hair behind her ear as she studies me with a rather calm look on her face.
“Whatever do you mean, Lottie?”
“You knew that Gloria Abner was Gloria Markus, didn’t you?”
Elodie blows out a breath as her shoulders sag a notch, and it genuinely seems as if she’s finally relaxed after spending years at attention.
“You know?” She shakes her head. “I can’t tell you how hard it was for me to keep that secret for her. But she’s gone now. Oddly enough, it was Suze who told me about it. And as soon as I hinted at it with Gloria, out came the threats. So when I found myself in a financial pickle, I knew who to call.” She chuckles. “And boy, was Gloria ever glad to help out. But she warned me that it would be the first and last time.”
“The money is running out, isn’t it?” I say, taking a step in close. “And that’s why you’ve been dipping into the Christmas Angels fund, isn’t it? You’re a shopaholic, Elodie, and you can’t keep two dimes together without finding something to exchange them for. It’s an expensive problem to have. Gloria knew, and she was going to turn you in for stealing wasn’t she?”
Elodie leans my way, and she’s right back to squinting. “What?” She shakes her head. “I might be a shopaholic, but I’m no thief. In fact, that’s what Gloria and I were bickering about before she went off and got shot in the back. She accused me of stealing, and I set her straight. Then I had to get a zinger in. I told her I’d rather be a thief than a murderer if I had the choice, and she slapped me a good one.”
“But she didn’t murder her ex-husband. It was an accidental discharge.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Gloria told me all about it over drinks one night. That man was two-timing her, and she let him have it. She said she got away with murder, and she would wear that banner as her crowning glory until the day she died. She said she went skiing in Vail to celebrate.”
Kringle pretends to faint.
“Okay.” I shake my head. Maybe I need to rephrase the question. “But why did you break into the Christmas Angels’ accounting software and use Chris’ initials when making withdrawals?”
“I never did that. I’m not proficient with all that computer stuff.”
“You didn’t share a login with Suze?”
“Nope. Wasn’t me.” She heads over to the dessert table without missing a beat.
“Now what, Lot Lot?” Kringle does his best impersonation of Carlotta.
“I don’t know. I’m truly stumped.” No sooner do the words leave my mouth than Suze stalks this way with a rather dowdy Mrs. Claus costume on and a white curly wig, along with something that looks like a shower cap on over that.
“Out of my way,” she grouses as she attempts to steamroll past me.
“Not so fast,” I grouse right back. “You killed her, didn’t you?”
“I’m not a killer.” Her jowls keep moving long after she’s said the words.
“But you stole the money from the Christmas Angels, and you put Chris’ initials in after each transaction. And you had the gun, Suze. You were at the crime scene!”
“You were at the crime scene, too, missy,” she riots back.
Kringle crouches near my neck. “Boy, she really doesn’t care that you’re with child, does she?”
I shake my head.
“Suze, how do you explain any of that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the killer knew what kind of a gun I carried and they wanted to pin this on me so they went out and bought the very same model?”
“Right.” I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “And how would they know what kind of a gun you carried?”
“I showed it to everyone at the Thanksgiving potluck. We were talking about self-defense and how unsafe it is to live in a town that is quickly becoming the murder capital of the world, no thanks to you and your magnetism to corpses.”
A choking sound emits from me. “Aren’t you forgetting a little detail in there? Such as the killer? I’m the least important variable in that equation.” I give a hard blink. “And really? You showed people your gun?”
“Yes,” she says wild-eyed. “I’m a big proponent of women defending themselves. And I let several